


The Sweet Life

by roebling



Series: Mokbang VJ Himchan [3]
Category: B.A.P, K-pop
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe, Belching, Belly Kink, Body Image, Button Popping, Embarrassment, Established Relationship, Feedism, Food Kink, Gluttony, Harassment, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Name-Calling, Stuffing, Weight Gain, Weight Issues, measurements, weighing in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2018-09-19 06:25:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9422408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roebling/pseuds/roebling
Summary: As Himchan and Yongguk settle into a relationship, Yongguk notices that Himchan is getting a little soft, and hereallylikes it.  Himchan's feelings are not quite as positive. But Himchan loves to eat, and Yongguk hates seeing him so guilty about something that brings him so much pleasure. The holidays are coming up, and with so many opportunities to indulge, they agree that for a little while, Himchan is going to eat anything his heart desires.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Finally getting around to continuing this series! I actually wrote the first two little chapters a few months ago. With the new year, I'm trying to get my writing back into gear. This will be a longer story of 750 - 1000 word chapters exploring a bunch of different elements and co-kinks (??) of feedism. If there's anything in particular you'd like to see Himchan and Yongguk get up to, comment and let me know. I'd like to try to post one little chapter a week. This is definitely not the best writing in the whole world (or even the best I've ever written) but hopefully it will be fun and a few people will enjoy :)
> 
> As always, this story is a fetish story that deals explicitly with weight and body image. If you want more information about the content, just comment and let me know. I will try to keep the tags up to date as additional content is introduced. If you think a tag is missing, let me know.

Everything is warm and cozy and soft. Yongguk closes his eyes, reveling in the heat and closeness. He runs a hand down Himchan's back. His skin is so soft. Pale and plush and perfect. Yongguk presses closer. They are naked and lazy now, after making out while they slowly jerked each other off. It was such a tender, succulent thing. Yongguk won't ever get enough of the heat of Himchan's mouth, the desperate hungry little sounds him makes, the way his long eyelashes flutter against his cheeks, the callouses on his palms from years of drumming, the way he always seems to know exactly what to do to make Yongguk desperate and needy.

But this -- this epilog -- is almost better. It's Sunday morning, and they have all day to enjoy each other. With conflicting schedules and work obligations, such time is rare. Yongguk treasures it. And besides, Himchan is not always so open. It's not often that he is willing to show so much of himself to Yongguk -- in the bright morning light, with the sheets thrown down to the end of the bed so that Yongguk can see every inch of his pale skin.

And there's so much of it, too. It had surprised Yongguk to learn, as they'd gotten to know each other, that Himchan, in spite of how much he loved to eat, worked very very hard at keeping his weight down. Every episode of outright gluttony was balanced with meager meals of black coffee and boiled sweet potatoes. Yongguk gets it, kinda. Every where you look there's something -- an ad, a news report, a celebrity touting diet success -- screaming about how bad it is to be chubby and how much better things would be if you could just lose those last few stubborn pounds.  
Yongguk doesn't really care one way or another. Personally, he doesn't have a big appetite and can't put on weight no matter what he eats. But he knows how much Himchan loves food, because he loves watching Himchan eating as much as he likes seeing the pure pleasure on his face. And he doesn't care much if Himchan gains weight, which he has since they started dating. Not a ton -- but maybe an extra ten kilos, bringing him from a little soft to obviously chubby.

Yongguk kind of likes it. He certainly likes the round obvious curve of Himchan's belly. There's a soft cushion of pudge right below Himchan's bellybutton that Yongguk likes to grab and squeeze and knead. He thinks it’s adorable when Himchan wears a slightly too small shirt and it rides up, revealing that delicious round pale curve. He likes, too, the fullness of Himchan's cheeks, especially when he smiles. He likes the way Himchan's ass has gotten full and wide, and he especially likes the way that, even though Himchan's waist is still pretty narrow, there are enticing folds of soft pudge there when he leans to one side, as he is doing now.

Yongguk can't help himself. He runs a hand down Himchan's side to where those delightful folds are and pinches one.

Himchan gives him a dirty look. "Stop playing with my fat," he mutters, curling up.

That's not at all what Yongguk wants. "I like it," he mutters, petting the soft smooth skin. "Squishy."

"Squishy?" Himchan snorts. "Gee, thanks, Bbang."

"It's nice," Yongguk says reproachfully.

Just then, Himchan's stomach growls loudly. He turns bright red.

Yongguk grins. "What do you want for breakfast? French toast? Eggs Benedict? I could make waffles again, or an omelette ..."

Himchan licks his lips. Yongguk makes a badass omelette. But the moment of temptation is short lived. "No," he says. "Yongguk, I can't keep eating like this. I'm turning into a pig."

"No, you're not," Yongguk says, frowning. He hates that Himchan beats himself up so much about the way he looks, especially because Yongguk _loves_ the way he looks.

"Yes, I am," Himchan says, frowning. He pinches a roll of tummy fat between two fingers. Yongguk shivers. "I haven't weighed this much since I was in high school. I'm gonna hit a hundred kilos again if I'm not ..."

"So what?" Yongguk says.

"Huh?" Himchan narrows his eyes.

"So what if you weigh a hundred kilos?” Yongguk shrugs. "I don't mind." He swallows. "I kinda like it."

"You're just trying to make me feel better," Himchan says, annoyed.

"No," Yongguk says. "I really do. I mean, you don't enjoy dieting, do you?"

Himchan gives him a look like 'Are you kidding right now?'.

"You're really crabby when you're hungry," Yongguk says. "And you love to eat. I don't mind if you gain weight. I like it. It's ... cozy."

"Cozy, huh?" Himchan says, eyebrow raised. 

Yongguk nods, grinning. One hand rests on the swell of Himchan's belly, squeezing slightly. Himchan puts his hand over Yongguk's, as if he's testing to see if what Yongguk has said is true.

"Just ... for the winter," Yongguk says. "The holidays are coming up anyway. Just stop dieting for a few months and in the spring we can take up long-distance running together if you want."

Himchan snorts. "Yeah right," he says. "I never really manage to lose weight over the holidays anyway." He frowns. "If you dump me once I turn into a fat pig I'm going to ..."

"I would never do that," Yongguk says quickly. "I love you. I don't care what you look like. I just ... I like to see you happy and you're happy when you eat."

"Can't deny that," Himchan says. He was suspiciously easy to persuade. "Okay. No diets until after the new year. I'm going to eat whatever I want."

"As much as you want," Yongguk says, shivering.

"Whenever I want," Himchan finishes. He is grinning a wicked smile. "And I think that starts with one of your famous omelettes. Now!" He smacks Yongguk on his bare ass.

Yongguk slides out of bed. It's cold out of the cocoon of warm sheets. He reaches for a pair of sweatpants. He'll make a three cheese omelette and bacon and toast and ...

"Yongguk," HImchan says, sounding serious.

Yongguk wonders if this was a mistake. Upsetting Himchan is the very last thing he wanted to do. He only ever wants Himchan to be happy. "What?"

"A waffle too, please. With whipped cream," Himchan requests, primly.

Yongguk laughs, and heads to the kitchen.


	2. Chapter 2

Himchan can see the pastry case from his table. He's at a coffee shop, hoping to work his way through a stack of undergrad papers he needs to grade. The topic had been 'Write about one example of cross-cultural influence in the development of contemporary music in Korea' and he's gotten some pretty dire work back. The current paper begins, ‘People all the world over listen to music and are influenced, and in this way music crosses cultures to influence people.’

Not all of it is an obvious insult to his intelligence, but even the best of it isn’t very good, and that's just one of the reasons that the pastry case is so distracting.

The other reason is the pastries themselves, of course. He's never stopped here before and hadn't quite been prepared for the array of treats: snowy white cream cakes topped with glazed strawberries and kiwis and grapes, ruby-colored red velvet cake with cream cheese icing, green tea mousse parfaits with perfect curls of shaved white chocolate on top, savory sausage pastries, overflowing cream puffs, pastel macaroons like little jewels ...

He swallows. Okay, so he likes food. He's never pretended otherwise. Hell, he's built a whole (underground) career on his love of eating, hasn't he? But he's always kept himself on a tight leash. Sure, he lets himself indulge -- when he's recording a video, of course, and on date nights with Yongguk, and every now and then when he just needs to eat his feeling. But the rest of the time, he's kept far, far away from temptation -- sticking to cheap black coffee and bean paste soup and other Spartan fare.

Why? There's a million reasons why -- everyone knows it's important to look good, and everyone knows that good is thin -- but he's starting to wonder if any of those reasons are actually very good reasons at all. The thing is, he's 28 years old, successful in both of his chosen fields, and in a relationship with an amazing guy. He's the happiest he's ever been in his life, and he's the heaviest he's been since high school.

And Yongguk doesn't seem to care.

Yongguk likes it.

So what the hell. Why shouldn’t he get a slice of cake? 

He pushes back his chair and makes his way to the counter. There's a line; the place is crowded with students on break and business people in suits rushing in for their midday caffeine fix. He doesn't mind the line. It gives him time to consider what he'd like to order.

Chocolate is good. He's always a fan. The dark chocolate cupcakes are massive, covered with big dollops of hazelnut icing. There are giant cookies bigger than his palm, studded with chocolate chunks. On the other hand, he can get a chocolate cupcake anywhere. The red velvet cake looks amazing, and it looks like they cut the slices very generously. He has a soft spot for cream cheese icing, too … 

"Can I help you?"

Himchan looks up. The bored teenage clerk is frowning at him. "Yes," he says. "You can." He steps forward. "Which do you recommend? The chocolate cake, or the red velvet?"

She gives him a cold, dead-eyed look. "The chocolate cake is good," she says. "If you like chocolate. And the red velvet cake is good if you like that, I guess."

Teenagers. God.

"Well," Himchan says, hesitating. "You can't go wrong with chocolate, so I'll have a slice of that."

"A slice of chocolate cake." She sounds utterly uninterested.

"Exactly," Himchan says, smiling. "And a large mocha." He need something to wash down the cake, of course. 

Himchan pays for his order, and waits at the counter for it to be ready.The other patrons are harried and distracted. Nobody's thinking, 'Damn, what is that fat-ass doing ordering dessert at lunch time?' Nobody's paying any attention to him at all, but he can't help but feel like he's doing something bad.

He's surprised to find he kind of likes the feeling. He's breaking the rules, and he likes it.

"Large mocha and chocolate cake," the girl at the counter calls.

Himchan pushes through the crowd to get his order. "That's me," he says. "All for me."

The girl isn't paying attention. It's almost a disappointment.

Himchan takes his food back to his table. It's a little table, and between the plate, the mug, his laptop, the stack of papers, and his phone there's not much room. He shuts the laptop and sticks in his bag. He can get back to work later. Now he's got more important things to attend to.

He starts with a bite of the cake. It's moist and rich, with depth of flavor. They might mix in a little espresso. This is good. This is really good. He takes another bite, savoring the bitterness and the sweetness, and then another, and another. Himchan loves food. He takes a sip of the mocha, licks the whipped cream off his lips. It’s sweeter than the cake. Both are rich and chocolatey, but in totally different ways. He takes another bite of cake, savoring the intense, almost painfully sweet icing. It’s so good. He closes his eyes to savor the taste as he takes bite after bite.

Too quickly, the cake is all gone and he's scraping the last of the icing off of the plate. He'd thought the slices were generous. They looked generous, sitting in the dessert case, but somehow now he's finished his slice already and he doesn't feel nearly like he's had his fill.

That red velvet cake still looks awfully good.

His phone buzzes with a new text.

_what are u doing?_

It's Yongguk.

_eating cake_

_Is it good?_  
  
_It was I'm all done now_  
  
He hesitates.  
_think I'm going to get another slice_  
  
_good_  
_enjoy_  
  
  
Himchan smiles to himself. Yongguk is a treasure. He doesn't know what he did in a past life to deserve such an amazing guy.  
  
He pushes back from the table and gets back in line. It's still crowded. He has another delicious moment of anticipation while he waits. Finally he finds himself at the front of the line.  
The clerk looks up, expression blank, until she recognizes him. "Uh, is everything okay ... Sir?"  
  
He smiles, and there’s a delicious little flutter of nervous in his belly. "Fine," he says. "Excellent, in fact. The chocolate cake was so good, I’ll take a slice of the red velvet as well. And another mocha, while you’re at it.”  
  
She gives him a strange look, but puts in his order. The counter is busy so he needs to wait for his food. He steps aside, over by the pastry case. He thinks he made the right choice with the red velvet but that fruit tart does look good. He is a sucker for a good custard, and this looks good — all rich and yellow and smooth.  
  
His stomach rumbles, and he smiles to himself. Grading papers is hungry work. By the time he gets through the rest of the stack, he might be ready for another treat.


	3. Chapter 3

Himchan’s sister is the one who who gives him the idea.  


They are at his parents house just a few days after Yongguk's suggestion that he take a break from dieting. Himchan has never discussed the nature of his relationship with Yongguk with his parents, but he doesn't think he needs to. Yongguk has a tacit invitation to all family events and his mother doesn't bat an eye when they both sleep in the same bedroom. Tonight there's no special occasion -- it's just a family dinner. Himchan's mother made his favorite, though -- galbitang. He’s usually careful to watch what he eats around his parents. It’s nice to get to enjoy as much of his mother’s cooking as he pleases. He's had three bowls and two heaping bowls of rice as well as lots of his mother's side dishes. He's comfortably full but he feels like he could probably manage a little bit more -- if there were any.  


There's not. All gone. What a shame.  


Himchan's mother likes it when he eats her cooking, opinions on his weight aside, and she's delighted to see the bottom of his empty bowl.  


"This was always your favorite," she says, beaming.  


His sister sniffs. "I wish you would make something more healthy," she says. "You know I'm dieting." She's barely touched her galbitang. Himchan thinks he exercised admirable restraint in not asking if he could finish it for her.  


His mother huffs. "It's your brother's favorite. Besides, I made it myself. All healthy ingredients!"  
His sister shakes her head. "Just because it's home-made doesn't mean it's good for you. According to my tracker, there are almost five hundred calories a bowl. And you keep making white rice ... that's just empty carbs, Mom."  


Himchan does some quick figuring in his head. If galbitang is five hundred calories a bowl, and he had three bowls, plus the rice, plus the side dishes ... he's eaten nearly his entire daily allowance in his once meal, hasn't he? And he doesn't even feel full.  


He catches Yongguk's eye. Yongguk looks like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He looks away, quickly. Yongguk's been doing the same calculation, Himchan realizes.  


As much as he likes to eat, and eat a lot, he’s never really thought about the calories part of it before. It’s … interesting. It’s kind of hot. He’s already eaten more than he should for a _whole day_.  


When his mother brings out a cream pie for dessert, Himchan helps himself to a nice big slice. His sister pushes her plate away. "That's another four hundred calories," she says, her disgust only mildly concealed.  


Himchan asks his mother for another slice when he’s done with his first.  


He downloads a calorie counter app on the drive home, and plugs in the evening's repast. "Hmmm."  


"What?" Yongguk asks.  


"Did you know that a cup of white rice has two hundred calories?"  


Yongguk shakes his head. "What are you doing?"  


"I downloaded that app my sister was talking about about."  


Yongguk's hands tighten on the steering wheel. The corners of his mouth turn down. "I thought you weren't going to worry about dieting for a..."  


"Did you see how much I ate tonight?" Himchan rolls his eyes. "Don't worry. I'm not suddenly being visited by a pang of guilt. I just..." He doesn't quite know how to put this into words.  


"What?" Yongguk asks, curious.  


"You know I like to eat a lot," Himchan says.  


Yongguk chuckles, low in his throat. "Oh, I know," he says.  


"I always measured it by like, volume or whatever" Himchan says. "You know, two pizzas. Three orders of ddeokbokki. Two gallons of ice cream."  


"I think I've watched all of those videos," Yongguk says. "Multiple times."  


Himchan grins. The ice cream video in particular is one of his most popular -- an instant classic, Yongguk proclaimed, when they finished filming. "This is just a different way to measure it," Himchan says. "Calories, instead of volume."  


Yongguk makes a rumbly noise of assent.  


"I ate over two thousand calories tonight," Himchan says, feeling a delicious spiral of embarrassed delight crawl up his spine. He rests a hand on his belly. It's still full and bloated from all that food. "That's more than you're supposed to eat in a whole day, you know."  


Himchan's finger lingers over the 'Complete dairy' button. It would be a thrill to commit this record of his gluttony, to save it and make it permanent.  


"Day's not over yet," Yongguk says slowly, still looking straight ahead but struggling not to smile. "I think we still have some cheesecake at home."  


He starts using the app the next day. He's shocked and surprised to find out how many calories some of his favorite foods contain. He’s got an early class this semester, so he usually stops at McDonalds on the way to school to grab some breakfast. Most days, he picks up a couple of sausage and egg McMuffins and a few hashbrowns. The McMuffins are four hundred calories a piece and the hash browns are a buck fifty each. He's clocking in at 1100 calories just for breakfast.  


Before heading into class he stops at the Starbucks on campus and grabs a venti Green Tea Red Bean Frappuccino. He's always figured, hey, green tea and red bean -- that's got to be kind of healthy, right? But no. That's another six hundred calories – probably more, because he always asks for extra whipped cream.  


It's not even ten o'clock yet. Himchan isn't even full.  


He drinks the Frappuccino while he listens to his professor drone on and on. He doesn't mind this class, normally, but he's distracted today. He keeps thinking about the numbers in that stupid little app. 1700 calories already. That's obscene, honestly. He has spent such a long time being careful about his diet -- carefully restricting during the week so he didn't feel guilty about his weekend indulgence -- that it's impossible not to feel some residual guilt. But underneath the guilt is a shocking thrill of pleasure and shame all tangled up together. Even with the loose sweater he's wearing, everyone must be able to tell he's put on some weight. It's obvious. His face is rounder and his belly is a soft curving bulge filling out his sweater. He's getting fat, and he's still drinking a giant Frappuccino, like he doesn't even know or care.  


But he knows exactly how many calories he’s eating, and he likes it.  


He has a practice room reserved for an hour after class is over. He practices for a little while but he can't concentrate and by noon his stomach is growling. There's a Yoogane near campus that is usually packed, but he really likes their dakgalbi with cheese. He likes it enough that he's willing to stand in line for fifteen minutes before he can get his own table. The server comes over, managing to somehow look both bored and harried.  


"What can I get you?"  


"Can I get the spicy chicken galbi? With umm ... let me get a side order of mozzarella ddeokbokki ... actually make that the combination ddeokbokki. And a coke."  


The guy nods and walks off. He's too busy to worry about the customer ordering enough food for two people, apparently. Himchan’s not sure if that’s a shame, or a relief. In a moment or two the waiter is back. The grill is hot. He drops a pat of butter onto the cast iron surface and it sizzles and melts. He dumps the bowl of green onions and spicy seasoned chicken and stirs the whole thing a few times.  


Himchan's mouth waters.  


It's an interminable wait while the waiter, in between dashing off to other tables, cooks the chicken and then adds the rice and folds in the cheese and ddeokbokki. By the time the waiter turns off the hotplate there's a steaming, gooey mountain of rice and grilled chicken in the middle and Himchan's stomach is growling.  


He digs in, glad he doesn't have to share, feeling greedy and hungry and embarrassed and hot. The rice is perfectly chewy -- not too soft, not too cold. The chicken is delicious and well seasoned. The cheese is melted and oozing. The ddeokbokki are crisp on the outside and pillowy inside.  


Yoogane dakgalbi might be the perfect food, Himchan considers. Close, at least. You've got all the food groups, after all -- peppers are fruit, really, right? Cheap, delicious, wholesome, filling. He rubs a hand against his belly, pressing gently. Yeah, really filling. Himchan's got a big appetite, of course, but this food is heavy and substantial, and it's sitting in his belly like he's swallowed a bowling ball.  


Good thing he really loves that tight, stretched, achy feeling, because suddenly he realizes that he's really stuffed. It’s far from the most he’s ever eaten, of course, but he's way fuller than he planned on getting on his own in the middle of the day at a chain restaurant, especially when he already pigged out at breakfast. He takes another sip of coke. The fizzy sweetness cuts through the heavy feeling, a little. He takes one bite, then another. He isn't hungry anymore, not even close, but the last few bites are the best -- the rice gets all crispy and burnt, the chicken is nearly caramelized.  


He scrapes up the last few spoonfuls, savoring the spicy, cheesy flavor. When he's done, he exhales heavily. His belly looks huge and swollen, pushing into his lap, brushing up against the edge of the table. A few grains of rice stick to his sweater. He was eating so fast he got sloppy. He brushes them off. It feels so good he gives his belly a covert little rub.  


Damn. He really needs a nap.  


He glances at his phone. It's almost two. He has a class to TA in a half an hour, and he's going to need some coffee or soda -- something to cut through this heavy glutted feeling that's engulfed him.  


He wants to lie down and take a nap. He wants to go home to his apartment and have Yongguk rub his belly until the ache subsides. He wants to order a second serving of dakgalbi and stuff himself so full that every last inch of space in his stomach is packed full and tight, until he feels absolutely ready to burst.

But he doesn't have time for that, and Himchan isn't an idiot. He likes to eat. He likes ... loves, maybe ... this little game he and Yongguk are playing. It's the hottest thing he's ever done. But he also knows that he has other things he wants to do and other things he cares about. Keeping his job as a TA is definitely one of those, and to do that he has to get to class. 

He heaves himself slowly up out of the booth and waddles slowly to the front of the restaurant to pay his bill. He's careful not to jostle his belly. He’s not that big, really, but he feels massive and bloated -- like he's taking up twice as much space as normal. Wide load coming through! 

Outside in the cold air he perks up a little bit, but it's still a rather unpleasant walk back to campus. He goes slowly, stopping to pick up a bottle of Coke. Fortunately, it's a lecture day in Music Theory (as opposed to a day with some kind of in person demonstration that would require Himchan's active participation). He plants himself in a desk in the back of the room. His belly presses up against the little work surface. Fuck. These desks aren’t meant for people of his substantial girth.

While the professor drones on in the front of the hall, Himchan takes out his phone surreptitiously and pulls up the calorie counter app. He doesn't find any entries for Yoogane. He's strangely disappointed. He ate all that food, damn it, and he wants to get credit for it. He does a quick web search and hits gold. According to the site he finds, one serving of spicy dakgalbi with rice has 585 calories. One serving ... how much is that? Himchan is sure he ate more than one serving, but he's not quite sure how much. And the 585 doesn't even count the cheese or ddeokbokki. 

To be on the safe side, he logs his lunch as 1500 calories. A couple of cokes add another 300 calories. That puts him over well 3000 for the day already. He feels strangely proud. He can’t concentrate for the rest of the class. He just keeps thinking about those numbers – all that food he ate, all those calories he packed in to his belly. 

Class is finally over and Himchan is free for the day. He grabs his back from his office (basically, a closet that he shares with three other TAs) and heads out into the cool fall afternoon. It's a beautiful day, and Himchan feels absurdly good. He grabs his phone and dials Yongguk. 

"Guess how much I've eaten today," he says. 

"Um," Yongguk says. "Hi, Himchan. How much have you eaten today?" His voice is low, and Himchan wonders if there's anyone in the studio with him, anyone listening to them discuss Himchan's gluttony. 

"3800 calories," Himchan says, proudly. 

"Jesus," Yongguk says. "Um, one sec ..." 

There's a muffled noise and then the sound of Yongguk opening and closing a door. 

"Sorry," he says. "Warn me before you say something like that." There's a pause. "3800 calories. Himchan, that's so much." 

"I know," Himchan says, absurdly pleased. "I was so full. Felt like I was going to pop." 

"You probably could have eaten more," Yongguk says, quietly. "If I were there, I would have gotten you to eat more." 

"I needed a belly rub," Himchan says, mournfully. He pauses at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. "I'm not too full now, though." 

Yongguk makes a dark, pleased noise. "I could pick up something for dinner after I get out of work." 

"Let's order jjajangmyeon," Himchan says, suddenly inspired by the Chinese restaurant he’s walking past. Carbs are the theme of the day, apparently. 

"Okay," Yongguk says. "And I'll stop at that bakery you like on the way home and pick up another cheesecake." 

"You really know how to take care of a guy, Yongguk,” Himchan says, pleased. He secretly likes it when Yongguk spoils him. "I bet I can get to 6,000 calories today. Think about how big and round my belly is going to be, how hard and firm and ..." 

Yongguk swallows. "You're terrible." 

"See you at home," Himchan says, grinning. 

Once he's on the subway (he even gets a seat!) he pulls his phone back out and pulls up the app again. He scrolls through his diary for the day. Sausage McMuffins, hash browns, decadent coffee drinks with whipped cream, piles of rice and spicy chicken dripping with butter and cheese, that candy bar he'd grabbed from a vending machine in between classes.

It's a huge amount of food. It's an awe-inspiring amount of food. Is this how much he normally eats? He's never paid this much attention before, never actually tried to catalog it. All spelled out like this, he can't deny that it's a lot of food. It’s a huge amount of food.

The train is pulling into a station. It's only three o'clock. It's going to be hours yet before Yongguk gets home, and as much as he’s looking forward to jjajangmyeon, Himchan is going to get peaky if he waits all the way until dinnertime without a snack. If he gets off at this stop, he can stop by McDonalds again on his way home and pick up a few burgers and maybe an order of fries or two.

The thought of eating more is ridiculous and excessive. Utterly indulgent. He’s not even hungry. How could he possibly still be hungry? 

But hey, there's no such thing as too much of a good thing, right?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while!! I'm doing some year-end house cleaning and I decided to finish up and post the next chapter of this, which I've been sitting on since July.
> 
> A few chapter specific warnings: in the first half of this chapter Yongguk witnesses and intervenes in a non kinky public instance of fat-shaming and sexual harassment which causes him to reconsider his and Himchan's situation. I re-wrote this part about a million times, and I hope that it comes off as I intend (which is illustrative of the complicated issues surrounding weight and power and public space and fetish and the ways in which they can and cannot be segregated). IDK I still feel a little uneasy about this chapter :( That being said, if you think this might upset you and just want to skip to the fun stuff, it starts about half way down.

The young woman is minding her own business, headphones in, staring intently at her phone. Yongguk doesn't even notice her, not until he hears someone says, "Hey, fatty, move over." 

He looks up sharply.

A kid has taken the empty seat next to the young woman. Although there is plenty of room, he is sitting pressed against her, legs spread wide. 

It's the word -- fatty -- that strikes Yongguk like a bolt from the blue. In the right time and place, it has a charged, electric power for him now, but he sees the way the girl curls up on herself even further, how she hunches down into the black shapelessness of her coat and he feels sick to his stomach. He watches, eyes narrowed, as she tries to make herself as small as possible. 

"God," the kid says. "You're taking up so much space." 

There's something about him that Yongguk doesn't like -- some mean cast to his features that makes Yongguk despise him on sight -- even if he hadn't been harassing this girl. He's young -- eighteen, maybe, and arrogant with his youth.

"You should take better care of yourself," the kid sneers. "What man is going to want you if can't even manage yourself?" 

Yongguk is on his feet without even realizing it. 

"Hey," he says, getting right up in the kid’s face. "Shut the fuck up." 

The young woman and the kid both look up at him. 

"What did you say?" the kid asks. 

"Leave her alone," Yongguk repeats. He tries to sound threatening. Sometimes his deep voice comes in handy. 

The kid narrows his eyes. "What's your problem?" 

"You're my problem," Yongguk growls. "Why don't you go find another seat, friend?" 

The kid rolls his eyes. "Fuck. It's not worth getting into a fight over _her_. You like fatsos or something? She's all yours." 

The kid, inelegant and brusque, gets to his feet and stalks to the other end of the car where he sits in an open seat, legs spread wide, like the only way to reassert his machismo is to take up as much space as he possibly can. Yongguk wants to follow him, wants to do something to teach him a lesson, wants to make it so that people like him -- who can’t show the bare minimum of respect to their fellow human beings -- are given what they deserve.

Yongguk wishes he understood why there are so many terrible people in the world. It makes his soul a little sick. 

The girl, pink-cheeked, smiles at Yongguk. 

"Thank you," she says, quietly. Then she looks back down at her phone, and sinks back down into herself, still looking like she wants to take up as little space as possible. 

There is a strange, twisting unhappy feeling in Yongguk's stomach as he retakes his own seat.

'Do you like fatsos?' Well, the honest answer is yes. He likes Himchan, at at least, and he likes that Himchan has gained some weight since they started dating. He definitely likes to see Himchan eat, and there's almost nothing that turns him on as much as the thought of Himchan eating way, way more than he should. 

But Himchan isn't fat, not really -- not yet, anyway -- and he doesn't have to put up with the kind of harassment that this young woman just had to endure. It's easier for men, of course, but still being visibly overweight isn't exactly inviting widespread acceptance. 

At the next stop Yongguk changes trains. His next train is almost empty, so instead of studying his fellow passengers, he read the ads -- plastic surgeon, plastic surgeon, weight loss clinic, miracle diet drug, plastic surgeon, weight loss clinic ... 

It's a depressing barrage. 

Yongguk is thin, has always been thin, can't gain weight if his life depends on it. He loves that Himchan has put on some weight, but he hasn't thought about what that might mean outside of the apartment. 

Being fat can't be easy. It's like you're assaulted on all sides by people telling you that you should be ashamed of who you are. 

He doesn't want Himchan to have to endure that. He doesn’t want anyone to endure that, but he can’t change every ad on the Seoul Metro. He doesn't even know if Himchan wants to gain weight, or if he'd just gone along with it at Yongguk's suggestion. 

He is consumed with guilt for the rest of the ride home. He should have asked Himchan, made it more clear, talked more about what they both wanted, instead of just encouraging Himchan to take a break from his dieting. He feels terrible, like he's conned HImchan into doing something that is only going to bring him grief. He needs to talk to him about it, right away. 

He walks home through the autumn gloom, rehearsing how it will go in his head. 

'Ah, Himchan-ah, I just wanted to say that I don't want you to feel like you have to gain weight.'

No, that's too direct, and it almost makes it sound like he _doesn't_ want Himchan to gain weight, which isn't true. He wants Himchan to be happy, first and foremost, and if that means him putting on a few more pounds, well, that's only icing on the cake. 

'Himchan, I was being selfish when I told you to stop dieting. I want you to do whatever makes you happy.' 

Better, but he's still skating around the issue. Yongguk is a direct guy, and he needs to be honest about this. If he'd just spoken up honestly in the first place, he would have avoided all of this confusion.

'Himchan, I'm really turned on by the fact that you've been gaining a little weight, but I didn't think about how hard it is to be bigger in our image obsessed society. I want you to do whatever you need to be happy, and I will help you with whatever that is.’

Yes. That is what he needs to say. 

He's feeling so good that he stops at the corner store around the block from Himchan's apartment to get Hoseok some flowers. He has a spring in his step as he walks into Himchan's building, and he's smiling as he takes the elevator to Himchan’s floor. Yongguk has always tried hard to do the right thing. He might have bungled this at the start, but he can make it right now. He enters the passcode for Himchan's apartment and opens the door and ... 

Holy shit.

Himchan is planted in the center of his couch. His shirt is off, and he's wearing a pair of tight, tight jeans. They're _so_ tight that a pale, soft roll of flab bulges over the top, partially obscuring the straining button. The stretch marks on his side look violently red. He is chugging what looks like a thick chocolate milkshake from a big plastic mug. Some of the sweet stuff has dripped down his chin -- chins -- and onto his soft chest and belly. His laptop is in front of him; he's filming. 

Well. This is definitely a new look for Gomgomi. 

Himchan lowers the cup and licks his lips. There's still chocolate smeared on his chin. His eyes flutter shut and there is tense, pained expression on his face ... and then he belches, loud and wet. 

"Ugh," he says in a thick, drowsy voice. "That feels better." 

"Um," Yongguk says.

"Shut the door, Bbang," Himchan says. "You're letting in a draft." He grabs that bulging roll of belly fat in one hand and shakes it. "Surprising though it may be with all the insulation, I still get cold." 

"Uh," Yongguk says. "Is this for the channel? I can come back ..." 

Himchan smiled, wicked and amused. "Does this look like it's for the channel, Yongguk? This is a Gomgomi Black Label special. Available only to very exclusive customers.” 

Oh. Yongguk blushes. He’s filming it for _them_.

He takes another long drink of the shake, draining the cup. Yongguk scrambles out of his shoes, out of his coat. Himchan burps again and sets the cup down. There's a whole pitcher of whatever it is he's drinking on the table. 

"Are those for me?" he asks. "You're so sweet, Bbang." 

Yongguk hands him the flowers and sits down beside him on the couch. Himchan smells them and sets them on the side table. 

"What made you so thoughtful today?" Himchan asks. "Trying to butter me up?" 

He is leaning back against the couch cushion. His belly looks bigger than ever, especially with his hands resting on it. 

"Uhhhh," Yongguk says. "I started thinking today ..." 

"Oh," Himchan says, "I think you've had one or two thoughts before today, Yongguk. Don't be so hard on yourself." 

Yongguk rolls his eyes. "I was thinking about this --" He gestures vaguely at Himchan and the pitcher of shake and himself. "-- and now I've really be um, enjoying what we're doing, but um. I know there's uh, a lot of pressure to be thin in our society, and I just wanted you to know that I love you and respect you and I want you to do whatever you need to feel happy and healthy." 

Yongguk's voice gets quieter and quieter as he goes. This had sounded a lot better in his head. He stares down at his lap, hoping like hell he's not blushing. 

Himchan is quiet for a moments and then says, "You love me?" His voice is strange and small. 

Fuck. Yongguk's never said that before, not to Himchan. He’d always imagined his first time saying it would be a lot more romantic. "Um," Yongguk says. "Yeah." 

Himchan beams. "I love you too, Bang Yongguk. And that was a very, very sweet and respectful speech." 

He leans forward -- belly straining hard against those too-tight jeans -- and reaches for the pitcher of shake. He pours himself another glass of the thick, rich stuff. 

"Do you know what this is?" he asks, holding up the cup. 

Yongguk shakes his head. "Milkshake? If you wanted ice cream we could have gone out, Himchan." 

Himchan chuckles. "Partially right," he says. His voice drops an octave. "I've been tracking my calories," he says.

Yongguk nods. He knows. He's listened with _great_ interest every night as Himchan has recounted the day's intake. One day last weekend he'd gotten up over ten thousand after an entire, decadent Saturday of stuffing himself to the absolute brim. They'd both been so turned on by the time he'd finished reading the lengthy list that Yongguk had sucked him off, one hand squeezing the soft new inches of Himchan's jiggly belly. 

"Ten thousand is impressive, but I wanted to see," Himchan says slowly, "If I could eat fifteen thousand calories in one day. You know. For science." 

Yongguk can't keep a straight face. He grins. 

Himchan shakes his head. "I gave it my best shot,” He says sadly, “but I couldn't. But I can _drink_ fifteen thousand calories." He taps the side of the pitcher. "I found a recipe online. Ice cream, whole milk, heavy cream, and brownie mix." He grins, wicked. "Seven thousand calories a pitcher. This will put me way over the fifteen thousand mark, on top of what I’ve already eaten today."

"Damn," Yongguk whispers. "That's a lot, Himchan." 

Himchan nods, looking pleased. 

If he finishes all of that he's going to be totally stuffed. Absolutely glutted. There's no way his jeans will be able to contain his massive, sloshy belly once he’s drunk down the rest of that shake. That button won't stand a chance.

"You really think you can drink _all_ of that?" Yongguk asks, swallowing. There’s an awful lot of it left. 

Himchan lifts the glass to his lips again. "Why don't you help me find out?" He smiles and takes a sip.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Himchan's recent indulgences catch up with him at the Music Department holiday party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! And it hasn't even been two months!! I've had this in my head since the holidays, and finally got around to writing it when I needed a break from more weighty (in the figurative sense) fic. If you've read this far you know what you're getting into here. Warnings for button popping, gluttony, weight gain, a little name calling, etc. If you want to chat about chubby Himchan and his shenanigans say hi! I'm on twitter at @roebling_writes !

"Oh shit." 

Flickering fluorescent lights in a tiny bathroom make Himchan look pale. That and the shock. He can still hear the party going on outside: it's the night of the annual music department holiday party. All the professors and doctoral students and their guests get together and ring in the the new year with food, drink, and good cheer. Yongguk is out there now, being his normal endearing self and winning over the professors and students alike. Everyone is so impressed that he’s a working producer, and his knowledge of arcane jazz musicians makes Himchan’s thesis advisor swoon. 

He's such a good egg. Himchan had dithered about asking him -- who really wants to go to their boyfriend's dumb work party? -- but of course Yongguk had been glad to come. Himchan hadn't even wanted to go himself, honestly; at least not until he'd heard where the party was going to be held. This is one of the best restaurants in town, and he's been wanting to check It out for months. A catered dinner was too good an offer to refuse. 

A little too good of an offer indeed. 

He stares down again in consternation. His black sweater stretches over his pudgy chest. Beneath that, his gut surges proudly forward. He's spent the last several hours stuffing himself full of delicious barbecue, but this isn't all from tonight. He grabs a handful of soft pudge and jiggles. All his flab shakes. No. This isn't the result of one night's overindulgence. 

Himchan has gotten fat. Really fat. So fat he's burst the button on his jeans. 

His cheeks go red. He grabs the two sides of the waist of his jeans and tries to pull them close enough to touch, but even when he strains there's a wide triangle of flabby lard left exposed. 

What is he going to do? He can't go back out to the party like this. He can't let anyone see him like this. How did it get this bad? How did he let himself go this far? How did this happen?

He knows _exactly_ how.

As he thinks back over the last several months, the answer is abundantly clear. If Yongguk gets up earlier on weekday mornings he makes Himchan a nice breakfast of eggs and toast and hash browns and bacon. Everything gets fried up together until it's crispy and glistening and greasy. It's a lot of food, but Himchan likes to start the day off with a good meal. He gets grumpy when he's hungry.

If Yongguk doesn't have time in the morning, Himchan will stop at McDonalds and pick up a few McMuffins and some homefries. He’d been embarrassed at first to order three or four sandwiches just for himself, but the bored teenagers working the counter don't care. He sits in a corner both, unwraps his food, and eats quickly with big greedy bites. 

Either way, he'll stop at Starbucks on the way into the office and get a venti Frappuccino. If he's feeling peckish before class, he can hit the convenience store around the corner for a bag of chips and a few candy bars. Class is inevitably long and tedious, and he's ready for lunch by the time it's over. Some days he just goes to a local restaurant and orders a big bowl of jjajangmyeon or some fried rice. 

Some days, though, Yongguk will be free and will meet up with Himchan for lunch. They'll go somewhere special -- maybe to get Thai food or Indian, or to a pizza place. When Himchan can't decide between two dishes, Yongguk will just smile indulgently and encourage him to try both. They can always bring the leftovers home!

There are never leftovers. Himchan always ends up stuffed and bloated after two entrees (plus whatever of Yongguk’s he doesn’t finish), massively overfull. He has to get another coffee drink before he heads back to work, and maybe a soda or two. He'll snack away the afternoon as he sits at his desk grading papers or reading, and then it's time to go home for dinner. Sometimes Himchan will cook, but if he's tired from working all day they'll order in. Yongguk will tell Himchan to order whatever he'd like, and when Himchan is packed full of food and bloated and achey Yongguk will kiss him and rub his belly until he can eat just a little bit more. 

After dinner, they’ll relax on the couch and Himchan will work his way through a pint or two of ice cream, or maybe a few snack cakes. Or both. He doesn’t even have to get up. He can sit and relax and Yongguk will bring him anything he’d like, and even feed it to him with sweet, coxing, shy encouragement. 

And that's just the weekday routine. 

The weekends are a literal orgy of good food. Saturday brunches that last for hours, American style. There’s a place near Himchan’s apartment they like to go to that serves all different kinds of eggs benedict. Himchan will sample two or three in one sitting, and down glass after glass of fizzy delightful mimosas or bellinis. He’s always tired and full after these huge meals, so they go home and nap. Yongguk will give him a belly rub while he snacks on a chocolate bar. In the afternoon they will make lunch together -- cheesy, buttery pasta or maybe some kind of stew. Himchan will snack on the couch until it’s time to go out for dinner. If they’re out late enough, they’ll stop on the way home so Himchan can get a few burgers for a midnight snack. 

It’s not like he’s trying to stuff himself constantly. It just happens. He just likes food so much, and there’s so much of it everywhere. He can’t _help it_ , especially not when he sees how much it turns Yongguk on. 

The holidays present their own unique challenges. There is candy everywhere: a bowl of sweets on the reception desk at work and someone brings a batch of brownies to class and and the coffee shop does a special chocolate-y drink that’s so good Himchan will order two at at time. There are all the requisite parties too. Yongguk's company really goes all out, catering theirs buffet style with a sushi bar and a carving station and a huge table of deserts. Himchan plants himself and gets to work. The food is all amazing, and Yongguk brings him plate after plate. He eats and drinks so much he gives himself hiccups. He's barely able to stand at the end of the night and Yongguk has to call a car so they can get home. 

He doesn’t burst his pants though. Not that night.

He shakes his gut again. It's no wonder he's gotten this fat. He must have packed on a good fifteen or twenty kilos since the summer, and most of it is right in this big wobbly bowl of jelly that's hanging over the split waistband of his pants. 

He shivers as the spark of arousal travels up his spine. It's not even Christmas yet. There's still another few weeks of the good life before the holidays are over and the real world returns. 

Who knows how much more weight he can put on in that time? 

In the meantime, he needs a new pair of pants. 

He sucks in, but beneath that thick layer of jiggly dimpled flab his belly is packed full. Still, at least he can look down and see the toes of his shoes now beyond that pale bulge. He pulls the two sides of his jeans together again -- even though the metal button is torn away from the denim -- and strains, but he's no closer to getting them shut than he was before. 

It shouldn't come as a surprise. To get these buttoned up he'd had to lie down flat on his back on his bed and wiggle his way into them. With his breath held, he'd just barely been able to get them buttoned up: a soft roll of pudge had obscured the button and his love handles had bulged over his waistband. He would have worn another, better-fitting pair if he'd had them -- but he didn't. He's outgrown almost everything. 

He shivers at that thought, and paws his round belly. It's almost eleven and the party has been going on for hours now. He hasn't kept track of how much he's eaten but it's been a lot: succulent samgyupsal and spicy bulgogi, savory tripe and chewy octopus. Yongguk kept his plate full, always snatching away the choices pieces for him. He had eaten and drank and been having a wonderful time, until he'd leaned across the table to get the last of the corn cheese. He'd been a little drunk and a little horny and more than a little hungry. His gut had felt like a bowling ball, but he'd wanted those last few bites of chewy, gooey cheesy corn more than anything in the world ... 

He'd rocked forward and reached across the table and ... 

The straining button had given way. He'd heard the rip, and felt the immediate relief as his belly surged forward. Frozen, he'd looked around, but it didn't seem like anyone else had noticed, not even Yongguk, who was engaged in a long conversation about American music with one of the professors. 

Himchan had gone hot and then cold. He'd stood up and quickly as he could, holding his pants together with one hand, and made his way carefully to the washroom. 

Nobody had noticed -- but what if they had? What if they all saw and realized just how much of a pig Himchan let himself become. It's one thing to eat a lot -- they all know he has a good appetite -- but in the last couple of months he's gotten genuinely fat. He grabs two handfuls of belly again. His flabby gut overflows his hands. There are a few stretch marks he hadn't noticed before, angry red stripes on either side of his belly button, on the lowest, pudgiest part of his gut. His belly hasn't taken all the weight, either. His thighs are massive, straining the seams of his ruined jeans. His arms are puffy, and his chest has softened into two pudgy little mounds, visible under his too tight sweater. 

Oh god. He's gotten huge. He's a big fat pig who burst his pants and everyone is going to be able to tell. In a desperate attempt, he pulls his sweater down over his belly, but it barely covers the lower curve, and rides up as soon as he lets go. What's he going to do? He can't just go out there like this.

He reaches into his pocket for his phone. He needs Yongguk's help. 

_Come to the bathroom_

Himchan is still staring his reflection in the little mirror when someone knocks on the door a moment later. 

"Yongguk?" 

"It's me," he says, reply muffled by the door. 

Himchan unlocks it and lets him in. 

Face creased in a frown, Yongguk asks, "What's wrong? Are you okay? Are you sick? What hap--" 

"I popped the button on my pants," Himchan hisses. 

Yongguk stares at him with eyes as big as dinner plates and swallows. "Wow," he says. "I knew you'd eaten a lot but not _that much_." He reaches forward and puts one hand on Himchan's belly, so gentle as to be almost reverent. 

"It's not how much I ate," Himchan says. "It's how _fat_ I've gotten." He jiggles his belly again. "I know I said I was going to stop worrying about my diet, but I didn't realized I'd pork up this fast. I've turned into a pig." 

That's how he feels right now: huge and fat and greedy, turned on and embarrassed and turned on by how embarrassed he is. 

Yongguk puts his other hand on Himchan's belly. He swallows. "If you want to start dieting, I'll help you any way I can. But, Himchan, you look ... You look amazing. You look really, really hot." 

Himchan huffs out a laugh. "Don't worry, Bbang," he says. "I guess I'm just as much of a kinky freak as you are. I don't think I'm going to be losing this any time soon." He's not even sure if he could lose it, to be honest. He loves eating so much, and there's something shockingly, thrillingly erotic about letting himself go the way he has, about pushing himself to eat more and more and more, about just not caring about the consequences of his unabashed gluttony.

He still cares a bit, though. He sighs. "I still need to get home though. I can't go back out there like this." 

Yongguk nods. He pulls off his own hoodie. "Here," he says, handing it to Himchan. 

Himchan takes it and frowns. "I don't think this is going to fit, Yongguk. I mean, have you seen me lately?" He glances down at his belly.

Yongguk's cheeks are red. "Tie it around your waist," he says. "Pull your sweater down first.

Himchan does as he says -- he pulls the sweater down and pulls his pants up and ties the sweatshirt around his waist. With everything tucked in and tied tight like that you can't really tell that he's ripped right out of his pants, but it’s not going to hold together for long.

"Bbang, I don't think I can get far like this," Himchan says, sighing. 

Yongguk nods. "I'll call for a car," he says. “I'll go say you're not feeling well. You just have to get downstairs. Think you can manage that, chubby?" He smiles hesitantly, as if he's not sure if he's crossed a line. 

"Oh Yongguk," Himchan says breathily, "I love it when you talk dirty to me." 

Yongguk grins. "Go wait downstairs," he says. "I'll go get your bag." 

Himchan nods. "When we get home I'm going to get on the scale and see exactly what I'm working with here." 

Yongguk lips his lips. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah. Let's do that." 

He looks so flustered and amused and turned on that Himchan has to laugh. 

"Maybe we can order some chicken too," Himchan says, considering. He's full, but he's not _that full_ after all. "I never did get to finish my dinner."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! I had originally intended to have this be an open-ended thing that I could keep adding to indefinitely, but I think this wraps up this chapter in Yongguk and Himchan's story pretty nicely :) That being said, I still have more stories to tell about these two! If there's anything in particular you'd like to see them get up to, or if you just want to talk about chubby kpop in general, comment or hit me up on twitter! My handle is @roebling_writes :) I hope to get some BTS weight gain fic out in the near future too :)) Thanks for everyone who's been reading this and see you next time!

Still, pale morning light spills in through the open window. It's unusually pure and bright. Yongguk stretches. He doesn't usually sleep well, but last night, warm and comfortable and totally content, he had fallen into a deep and peaceful sleep. 

He can't even remember the last time that Himchan was up and out of bed before him. It's almost unprecedented, but the other side of the bed is empty. 

It is the first day of the new year, and Himchan is apparently starting off with an uncharacteristic burst of motivation. 

Yongguk sits up and blinks sleepily. It's a cold day, and that clear, cold morning light is a product of the snow that fell overnight. That snow is why they stayed in last night, in spite of an invitation to a party that Sleepy hyung was throwing. The weather had turned bad, and Yongguk's apartment is an hour away by subway, so Yongguk had made his apologies and said they'd come next time. 

Neither of them had been very disappointed. 

Yongguk had bundled up and made a trip to the grocery store. He's gotten to be rather a good cook, these last few months. He can't make fancy things, but he's got a few standard recipes that he's mastered. Of these, Himchan's favorite is pasta carbonara: rich and cheesy, studded with savory bits of fatty pork belly. Yongguk had a big, big portion. Enough to feed a family. Thick al dente strands of fettuccini coated with an insanely rich butter and cream and cheese sauce. 

It _should_ have been enough to feed a family. Yongguk had finished most of a bowl, and Himchan --- Himchan had devoured the rest. 

Even for Himchan, it had been an impressive feat. 

Cheeks rosy from the red wine they were drinking, he'd filled his face with forkful after forkful of pasta. They hadn't talked much. There wasn't much point when Himchan really got going. Yongguk had sipped his wine and made sure HImchan's bowl was full and watched with increasing anticipation as the amount of pasta left in the pot had gotten smaller and smaller and Himchan's belly had gotten rounder and heavier and more full. 

Finally, groaning and stuffed, Himchan had pushed back a few centimeters from the table. 

"Oh god," he'd said. "I think I might explode." He'd groaned and pressed his hands into his belly, and then let out a big belch. "Ugh." 

"Unbutton your pants," Yongguk had said. "You’ll have more room." 

Grunting, Himchan had reached forward and unbuttoned his jeans, letting his big, soft belly spill out onto his laps. "That's better," he said, and he burped again. He closed his eyes, stroking the swollen soft round of his gut. "Yongguk," he said, without opening his eyes, "get that bread from the kitchen and come here." 

Yongguk had gotten the loaf of French bread and slowly, slice by slice, one hand kneading Himchan's flab, he'd used it to soak up the rest of the fattening, delicious sauce for Himchan. Finally, the loaf of bread was gone and the pot was absolutely wiped clean and Himchan was breathing heavily. 

"Help me to the couch," Himchan had said. Yongguk helped him up and let Himchan lean on him as he waddled over to the couch, his swollen gut leading the way. He'd dropped heavily down onto the couch and closed his eyes. 

Yongguk had put on a movie and cleared the table while Himchan sat sunken deep into his own gluttony. Yongguk didn't mind. It made him happier and more excited than he could say to glimpse over at the couch and see Himchan looking so full and happy and content. After the dishes were done, he'd gone to the fridge and taken out a white box from the bakery down the street. He'd stopped and gotten Himchan's favorite tiramisu cheesecake as a special New Year's Eve treat. 

Himchan, alerted by that sixth sense of his that seemed to know whenever there were sweets around, grunted and looked over. "What's that?" 

"Tiramisu cheesecake," Yongguk said. He didn't bother cutting a slice, just put the whole thing on a plate and handed it and a spoon to Himchan, who looked at it askance a moment before settling it on the round bulge of his gut. 

"I can't eat this, Bbang," he muttered even as he settled the plate more carefully on his belly. "I'm so full." 

Yongguk frowned. "Sure you can," he said. "It's your favorite." 

Himchan pouted. His little double chin bulged. "I really shouldn't," he said with an exaggerated sigh, "but I guess I'm not going to start my diet until tomorrow." 

His eyes fluttered shut as he tasted the first heaping spoonful. The way Himchan ate -- sensual and greedy and insatiable -- made Yongguk’s skin feel too tight. 

It wasn’t really very long before the cheesecake was all gone too, and Himchan was dozing with his head resting on Yongguk’s shoulder and his hands on his belly. 

It had been a good night. A really good night. And now in the cold clear bright light of New Year's morning, Yongguk is prepared to help Himchan do whatever he needs to feel his happiest and best. If that means dieting, well, fine. He just wants to savor those memories of last night a little while long. 

But there are pressing matters to attend to. Yongguk has to piss. He slides out of bed, recoiling at the cold floor. He shuffles down the hall to the bathroom. The door is ajar. Himchan is standing inside, his back to Yongguk. He is wearing a much too small tee shirt that displays all of his gratuitous curves to their best advantage. His love handles bulge huge and soft over the too-tight waistband of his sweatpants. Those sweatpants pull around his ass and hips, which have gotten delightfully wide and round. Even his back looks fat. There are soft pads of flesh obscuring what had once been the sharp lines of his shoulder blades and new cushions of pudge under his arms. It's not that Yongguk doesn't see Himchan every day, but somehow the sight of him like this is new and almost shocking. He's not just chubby any more. He's well and truly fat now. 

Yongguk loves the way he looks and he loves how happy food makes Himchan. He understands only all too well why Himchan wants to diet, but damn, he's going to miss this. 

He steps forward and puts one hand on Himchan's waist, just above the place where his love handles bulge out. 

"Jesus," Himchan says, jumping. "You scared me." 

"Sorry," Yongguk says. "You looked like you were thinking." 

Himchan sighs. "I am," he says, sounding glum. 

"What's up?" Yongguk asks. 

Himchan nods in the direction of the wall, against which sits a scale, shiny and new. 

It must be new. Yongguk doesn't own one -- or hadn't before today. 

"You ordered that?" 

Himchan nods. When he does, his fat little double chin bulges even more than normal. "It's a new year, Bbang," he says. "We had fun, didn't we?" He smiles at Yongguk, sweeter than sugar, and so tender. "But it's time to start my diet now. Time to see how much damage I've done." 

Yongguk hates that. It's not damage. 

"Hey," he says, voice low. He squeezes Himchan's side tenderly. "This is ... this is like proof." 

"Proof?" Himchan says, sounding amused.

Yongguk nods. He presses against Himchan's back, slides his hands around and under Himchan's belly, which lately has gotten so big and soft, hanging down over the waistbands of all of his pants. He grabs that pillowy softness and wobbles it gently. "Proof of how much you've enjoyed yourself," he says quietly. 

Himchan chuckles, rumbly noise deep in his chest. "Oh really?" 

Yongguk nods again. "How much good food you've eaten," he says. "How happy it's made you. How happy you've made me." 

Himchan places his hands over Yongguk's. "We have had some good times," he says softly. He pulls up his tee shirt so that it's bunched up between the top roll of his belly and his soft breasts. His gut is so pale, except for the red stretch marks that halo his belly button and decorate his sides. He's not like a lot of fat guys -- built along a massive and solid line. No. Himchan is thin-boned and slight, so the extra weight is even more noticeable on him, pounds and pounds of soft and wobbly and quivering fat. "Thirty kilos worth of good times, I'd bet." 

Yongguk sucks in a breath. "That much?" 

Himchan laughs softly. "You like that idea, don't you? You like the idea that I've spent the last six months eating anything and everything I want and letting myself pork up." 

Yongguk can't deny it. "Yeah," he says. "I really do." 

Himchan shakes his head. "At least I'm not the only weirdo in this relationship," he says, grinning. He closes his eyes. His dark lashes flutter against his pale, round cheeks. 

"You've really gained thirty kilos?" Yongguk asks. That's so much weight to put on in such a short amount of time. It's obscene. It's so hot. 

Himchan shrugs. "That's my guess." He nods in the direction of the scale. "Can't quite work up the nerve to step on and see." 

Yongguk feels shaky and nervous and turned on. _He_ wants to know exactly how fat Himchan has let himself get, but he knows it’s not his decision. "I don't care what you weigh," he says softly. 

"I know," Himchan says. He squares his shoulders. "I need to know how bad it is, though. I guess I should just do it, huh? I bought the scale and everything, and I know you're not going to dump my fat ass, so ..." He takes a step closer. "Here we go." 

He steps onto the scale. Yongguk stays where he is. Himchan needs to have this moment to himself. 

Himchan stares down at his feet. He's silent for a moment, and then he laughs. "I was wrong," he says. 

"Huh?" 

"Thirty two," he says in a strange and strangled voice. "I've gained thirty two kilos. I weight a hundred and eleven kilos, Bbang."

Yongguk feels a thrill run up his spine. Thirty two kilos. Wow. That's _so much_.

Himchan steps off the scale and grabs a handful of belly fat. "I'm fatter than I've ever been in my entire life," he says, so quietly Yongguk can't get a read on his emotions. He hopes it's not fear and hurt that he hears in Himchan's voice. He hopes -- "I'm fatter than I've ever been in my entire life, and it's _your fault_ , Yongguk." 

Ah. That's better. There's still something tender to Himchan's tone but there's a lot of good-natured teasing too.

"My fault?" Yongguk asks, feigning shock. "I didn't make you eat anything." 

Himchan snorts. "Oh, please," he says. "Quit playing coy. Maybe you didn't stuff the food in my mouth, but I would never have let myself go like this if you hadn't encouraged me." 

Yongguk puts his hands on Himchan's belly again. "What's wrong with that? You liked it, didn't you?" 

Himchan arches his back so his belly bulges further into Yongguk's hands. "I liked eating. I loved eating. As much as I wanted. Whenever I wanted." 

"So what's the problem?" Yongguk asks. Himchan's skin is so soft. Buttery. And there's so much of it now. A creamy expanse. 

"I turned into a fat pig," Himchan says. "Look at me, Yongguk. This isn't just a few extra pounds. When I was in high school I swore I'd never let myself get over a hundred kilos again, and I've blown past that. I'm huge." 

Yongguk could argue otherwise -- Himchan has put on a noticeable amount of weight, but he's not _that big_. 

Not yet. 

He doesn't go that route though. "I think you look beautiful," he says instead, sincerely.   
Himchan snorts, incredulous. "Come on. Look at this," he says, shaking his gut. "I've got cellulite. I've got stretch marks." 

They're very obvious against his pale skin, red lines etched over the much older, faded ones. 

"I like it," Yongguk says. "I think you look good. Comfortable." He clears his throat, shifting. "It turns me on, seeing the evidence of how much you've eaten, how much weight you've gained. I think you look _really good_ , Himchan. I'm not lying." 

Himchan's eyes narrow. "Maybe you're not," he mutters. He looks down at himself as if he's looking for evidence of what Yongguk sees. "What am I supposed to do, though? If I keep eating like this, I'll just ..." 

He pauses mouth open. His hands are still on his belly, and his fingers dig into his soft flesh. 

"What?" Yongguk steps forward. 

"If I keep eating like this I'll just keep getting bigger and bigger and bigger," Himchan says slowly. His cheeks are red, and he's staring down at himself. "If I keep eating like I have been, it won't be long before I weight a hundred and fifty kilos." 

Yongguk is hard now, embarrassingly so. He's not sure he's ever heard anything say anything with so much immediate and intense erotic charge. A hundred and eleven kilos is big, no doubt, but a hundred and fifty? That's huge. Himchan would be really fat then, big enough to attract attention on the streets, too big to fit into restaurant chairs, too huge to shop in regular stores. Obese.

"Your belly would get so much bigger," he says, quietly. He puts his hands alongside Himchan's, thumb gliding over his soft skin. "You probably wouldn't even be able to see your toes." 

Himchan snorts. "Can barely see them now." 

Yongguk slides his hands up Himchan's sides, over his abundant hips, skimming the rolls of fat, up to cup his breasts, which are still too small to be a real handful. He pinches one of Himchan's pink nipples. "These would get a lot bigger too. Real fat man tits, resting on your belly." 

Himchan swallows. 

Yongguk grabs Himchan's ass. "This too," he says. "And your cute double chin." 

Himchan snorts. "I don't have a double chin," he says. 

Yongguk pinches it, the soft little pillow of fat that disguises Himcahn's jawline. "You do," he says quietly. It's hard for him, this blatant and naked airing of his desires, but Himchan has to hear it. He knows that Yongguk loves him, but he has to hear how much Yongguk wants him now, still, even more than ever. 

"You look gorgeous," Yongguk says, whispering, close to Himchan's ear. "You look fat, and satisfied, and content, and gorgeous." He puts his hands on the narrow (which really isn't narrow at all, now) of Himchan's waist and squeezes. "I love the way you look, and I love thinking that I helped make you this way. I love you, Kim Himchan, and I will help you with all of my energy if you want to go on a diet and start running marathons or something --" 

Himchan makes an amused noise. No matter what happens, Yongguk doesn't think any marathons are in his future. 

"-- but I really like you like this. I think ..." Yongguk swallows. "-- I think we've skirted around this long enough. You know I think it's hot how much you can eat. I think this is just as hot." He squeezes Himchan's copious love handles. "The fruits of all your labors." 

Himchan is quiet for a moment. "You're so poetic, Bbang." 

Yongguk ducks his head, embarrassed. He's said too much. Himchan is going to think he's a freak. Himchan is going to think he's gone to far. Himchan is ...

"It's so bad," Himchan whispers, still staring at himself in the mirror. He bites his lower lip. "Just eat whatever I want and keep getting bigger?" He shivers. "It's so _bad_ , Yongguk. My whole entire life everyone has always told me to diet and exercise and be careful so that I don't end up a huge fat ass. Even after I started my channel, I was so careful not to go overboard. Now, to just ... stop caring, and eat whatever I want?" 

"That's what you've been doing," Yongguk says gently. "You enjoyed it, didn't you?" 

Himchan huffs. "You saw me with that cheesecake last night, didn't you?" 

He'd eaten the whole thing, almost violently eager. Gluttonous and unrestrained. 

"Yeah," Yongguk says. 

"It's so _wrong_ , though," Himchan says. "Why is that so _hot_?

Yongguk laughs as the tension suddenly drains from him. "I don't know," he says. "I guess we're just a pair of weirdos." 

Himchan laughs softly. "I'd say we're a perfectly matched pair." 

Yongguk steps forward, turning Himchan so they're face to face. Himchan's soft belly presses against Yongguk's flat stomach. He’s not muscular, really, but he’s thin enough that you can see the flat, faint outlines of his abs. The contrast is so hot. 

"Seriously," he says, pulling Himchan closer. "If you want to start exercising, or dieting, or ... whatever. I don't care. I just want you to be happy. You just ... you love to eat so much, and you were always so miserable dieting." 

Himchan smiles. It makes his pudgy cheeks and double chin really obvious. "You're a good person, Bang Yongguk. I'm really glad you started creeping on my Afreeka channel." 

"I wasn't creeping," Yongguk protests. 

"You were creeping," Himchan says. "Good thing, too. I don't know where else I would have met someone who likes all of this." He reaches down and wobbles his belly. Yongguk can feel all that flab move. It feels amazing. 

"I like all of you," Yongguk says. "Every centimeter. Every kilo." 

"Even when there's a whole lot more of me?" Himchan asks, again, tentatively, as if he really can't believe Yongguk likes the fact that he's put on weight.

"Always," Yongguk says. "No matter what you look like. But, uh, especially if you got a little bit bigger. I think I’d really like that." 

Finally, Himchan smiles, easy and relaxed. "We better get to work, then," he says.

Yongguk grins. "I don't think anything's going to be open on New Year's Day," he says. "I'll make you breakfast. Eggs and bacon?" 

"And pancakes, please," Himchan says. 

"Anything you want," Yongguk says. His heart feels so full, overflowing. 

"I just want you," Himchan says, and he leans forward and kisses Yongguk, sweet and soft and perfect. 

And then his stomach grumbles audibly. 

Himchan's eyes go wide. 

Yongguk laughs. 

"And breakfast," Himchan says. "I want you, and breakfast." 

"I think that can be arranged," Yongguk says, and he kisses Himchan once more and then heads to the kitchen to get to work.


End file.
